Perhaps it was guilt gnawing at Grayson. For the next few days, he stayed by her side, handling work from home while also going over the final details of the wedding.

Then came the business banquet he couldn't avoid attending.

He insisted that Violet accompany him. Before she had a chance to refuse, he had already arranged for a stylist to come over.

At the banquet, she realized Ruby was there too.

Dressed in a tight V-neck gown that left little to the imagination, Ruby approached them with a practiced smile. "Mr. Warhol. Miss Hudson."

Violet met her gaze. Calm and poised, there was no trace of the woman who had provoked her the night before. It was as if she had transformed into someone else entirely.

Quite the actress, just like Grayson.

A moment ago, she had clearly seen his expression shift the moment he laid eyes on Ruby. His gaze darkened, his Adam's apple moved slightly, but he still held her hand, maintaining his cold and distant facade as he gave Ruby a mere nod.

The moment Grayson appeared, guests flocked to him, glasses in hand, eager for conversation.

Some of the wealthy wives tried to engage Violet, but she continued to play the role of someone hard of hearing, letting their words fade into the background.

Grayson smiled as he offered explanations, worried she might grow bored. He personally selected the pastries she liked, placed a glass of juice beside her, drawing admiration from those around them.

"Mr. Warhol really is the perfect man."

"I've heard how much he dotes on his fiancée, and seeing it in person, I can't deny it."

Violet lowered her eyes, her long lashes casting a shadow over the mockery hidden within them.

As the chatter continued, Grayson's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting slightly before he spoke apologetically. "Excuse me, I have some work to handle."

Then, turning to her, he signed in fluid motions, "Violet, wait here for me. I'll be back soon."

She instinctively scanned the room. Ruby was gone too.

Moments later, her phone vibrated.

A message from Ruby.

It was a screenshot of a chat.

In the image, Ruby had sent a photo—her bare back exposed, the zipper at the bottom of her dress left teasingly undone.

Beneath it, a message: [Mr. Warhol, my zipper won't go up. Can you help me?]

Grayson's forwarded response was brief: [Location?]

Then came another message: [He couldn't even wait until he got to the restroom. People were walking by outside. The thrill of it all—he took me twice. My legs can barely hold me up. That's something you'll never be able to give him.]

[Oh, and we didn't use protection. We've lost count of how many times we haven't. He said that if I get pregnant, I should keep the baby. Who knows, maybe I already have his baby growing inside me.]

Violet closed her eyes and pressed a hand against her chest, trying to dull the ache.

He really couldn't even wait a few hours?

Her phone vibrated again.

She assumed it was another of Ruby's taunts, but when she looked, it was a message from the agency handling her fake death.

"Miss Hudson, your new identity is ready. We've booked your flight to the UK for five days from now, departing at 6 p.m. We need you to confirm if you're proceeding with the plan."

She turned on her camera and recorded a short video of herself.

"I confirm the departure."

Just as she was done, a panicked voice sounded behind her.

"What do you mean, leaving? Are you leaving, Violet?"

Instinctively, Violet wanted to turn around, but she remembered that her "hearing impairment" had yet to recover. She forced herself to stay still.

Grayson rushed to her side, his eyes filled with panic.

"Violet, are you leaving me? We're about to get married—where would you go?"

When she gave no response, he suddenly realized and hurriedly repeated his words in sign language.

Violet's expression remained calm.

"A friend of mine is leaving."

He studied her face carefully, searching for any sign of deception. Only when he was sure she wasn't lying did he let out a breath of relief.

"That's a relief. Violet, you don't know how terrified I just was. I can't even imagine how I'd live if you ever left me."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight, his face still etched with fear.

Hearing his heartfelt words, Violet felt nothing.

If he was so afraid of losing her, why had he betrayed her?

Was it because he believed she couldn't hear, so he had nothing to fear?

Too bad for him—he was about to be disappointed.

The lingering fear in Grayson's heart had yet to fade. He tightened his grip around her waist, ready to leave.

"Violet, let's go home. I won't let you out of my sight for even a second."

"Oh? And what about your assistant?" she asked.

"She wasn't feeling well, so she left early."

His lie came so effortlessly that it was almost laughable.

Just as they reached the parking lot, Violet saw Ruby struggling against a man's grip. The man held her wrist tightly, refusing to let her go. His other hand was already reaching for her waist when she suddenly broke free and slapped him hard across the face.

The man's expression twisted with anger. He grabbed a beer bottle from the ground and swung it at her.

In that split second, Violet felt the arm around her waist suddenly loosen.

Grayson bolted forward, shielding Ruby in his embrace.

The bottle shattered against his shoulder. Sharp glass cut through fabric and flesh, and blood quickly soaked his shirt.

His face turned terrifyingly dark. He checked Ruby for injuries, and when he confirmed she was unharmed, he grabbed the man by the collar and landed a fierce punch squarely on his face.

"Who gave you the guts to touch one of mine? Do you have a death wish?"

The man recognized Grayson instantly and was so terrified that he begged for mercy, not even daring to resist.

A shard of glass had cut Violet's cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood, but she remained motionless. She simply stood there, watching the man in front of her unleash his fury.

The scene overlapped with a memory from five years ago.

Back then, she had just started dating Grayson. It was their first time attending a business event together.

At the time, his reputation as a devoted lover had yet to be established. When people learned about her hearing impairment, she had clearly seen the scorn and amusement in their eyes.

After Grayson was pulled aside for business discussions, several men had surrounded her. They thought she was nothing more than a passing plaything. Even though she couldn't hear their words, she could read the mockery and lechery on their faces.

She wanted to call for help but was afraid of causing trouble for Grayson. She tried to warn them off again and again, only to be met with even deeper ridicule.

Just as one man reached out to touch her face, Grayson appeared out of nowhere and kicked him several feet away. His eyes burned red with rage as he pinned the man down and beat him mercilessly. Later, he ordered his secretary to cut all ties with them and blacklist them from the industry.

From that moment on, everyone knew that Violet was untouchable. No one dared to lay a finger on her.

Now, the scene replayed before her eyes—but this time, the woman in his arms was no longer her.

On the way to the hospital, Grayson finally noticed the blood trickling down Violet's cheek. Until now, he had been too busy comforting Ruby after the earlier fight to pay attention.

Once they arrived, he ignored his own bleeding shoulder and insisted the doctor treat her first.

"Our wedding is coming up," he said. "My Violet can't have a single scar on her face."

Then, turning to her, guilt filling his eyes, he signed, "I'm sorry. This was all my fault. I only stepped in because Ruby is my subordinate. Please don't be mad at me, alright?"

Violet said nothing. Instead, she told the doctor to ignore her wound and focus on treating Grayson's shoulder. It didn't matter. She wouldn't be at the wedding anyway. Whether or not she had a scar was meaningless.

Grayson mistook her indifference for concern and looked at her, touched.

The doctor cut away his blood-soaked shirt, exposing the deep gash beneath. Only then did Violet notice the wound overlapped perfectly with an old scar—a circular mark left by a steel rod that had pierced him during the earthquake five years ago. Now, that past injury was gone, erased by fresh pain.

For a brief moment, she felt dazed. Perhaps this was fate's way of telling her that their love was truly a thing of the past.

As they left the hospital, Ruby hugged herself, her voice trembling as she looked at Grayson. "Grayson, can I stay at your place tonight?"

Grayson rarely saw Ruby this vulnerable, and something in him softened. He hesitated, glancing at Violet before cautiously signing to her, "Violet, Ruby is shaken up. Can she stay with us for the night?"

As if afraid she would misunderstand, he quickly added, "I don't mean anything by it. As her boss, I have a responsibility to take care of my employees."

Violet's fingers curled into her palm, nails digging into her skin. Was he really asking for permission to bring another woman into their home?

Then, she laughed at herself. What did it matter? Sooner or later, Ruby would move in after she left. There was no need to argue over something inevitable.

"Do as you like."

Perhaps because she was there, Grayson kept his distance from Ruby the entire drive home. Even when Ruby tried to start a conversation, he silenced her with a glance.

Violet closed her eyes and leaned against the window, unwilling to watch their little performance.

When they arrived, Grayson ignored Ruby's expectant gaze and arranged for her to stay in the guest room on the second floor.

Back in their bedroom, he brought out iodine and bandages, gently tending to Violet's wound.

"Violet, I know you care about me," he signed. "But how could you refuse the doctor's treatment? If this leaves a scar, I'll feel terrible."

After dressing her wound, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "I won't let you get hurt again. Today, I acted on impulse when I saw my employee being harassed. I didn't think. After all, someone attacking my employees is the same as trampling on my pride. How could I let that slide? You understand, don't you, Violet?"

If Violet hadn't known the truth about him and Ruby—if she hadn't caught the flicker of possessiveness and rage in his eyes—she might have believed him.

But she said nothing, only signed that she was tired and wanted to rest.

Grayson, as if following a routine, brought her a glass of warm milk and gently patted her back to lull her to sleep.

Deep in the night, a thunderclap jolted Violet awake.

Half-asleep, she instinctively reached out for the warmth beside her, only to grasp empty sheets.

The chill against her fingertips cleared her mind in an instant.

She got up and left the room. The moment she reached the second-floor landing, she heard a woman's soft gasps.

Her steps faltered, the bitter taste of realization settling in her throat.

She moved forward, one slow step at a time, until she reached the guest room door.

It was wide open.

Under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, two naked bodies entwined, their movements intimate and unrestrained.